Percabeth's Sick Day
by ImpossibleDefined
Summary: Just a Percabeth one-shot, kinda fluffy. What would happen if Annabeth got sick? T to be safe. I own no PJATO-specific material, it all belongs to Uncle Rick.


Sick girlfriends are _so _not my area of expertise. I'd much rather take on a dozen dracaena, or another hydra, or the Minotaur (again.).

But _noooo._ Instead of a nice, cozy bed at eight on Saturday morning, I'm weaving in and out of traffic on the way to Annabeth's boarding school.

I parked Paul's car in front of Annabeth's boarding school. I wasn't met by Annabeth, but a short, sturdily-built teenage girl with dark hair and skin so pale it was almost white. She beckoned me over.

"Ooh, Annabeth was right. You _are _cute," she nodded admiringly. "I'm Brooke. C'mon."

I had no choice but to follow her. Annabeth's school campus was _huge, _and I probably would've gotten lost.

Brooke turned to me as we stopped in front of one of the dormitories. "All-girls dorms. No boys allowed. Stick close to me and don't let the prissy one's see you," she pointed to a pack of girls, giggling and whispering as they entered the dorms.

I followed her inside, keeping my head down. I wondered what was so important that I had to sneak military invasion-style into a girl's dormitory for.

Finally, Brooke halted in front of one of the rooms. She planted her feet and spread her arms, oh-so-secretively blocking me from view as she kicked me inside. Brooke followed me in and shut the door.

The sheer amount of books, papers, and blueprints spread across half of the room made it obvious that this was Annabeth's dorm. Her Yankees cap hung on a plastic _Command _strip hook next to her desk, where her Daedalus laptop hummed quietly. Her bed was a mess, the blankets mounded into a heap on one side.

One thing was missing, though. "Ummm, where's Annabeth?"

Brooke pointed at the pile of blankets.

The pile moved.

"Ugggggghhh. Five more minutes," Annabeth moaned, tossing a pillow half-heatedly across the room.

Brooke cleared her throat. "I'll be going now. Take care of our plague victim for me." She smacked me on the arm (which was supposed to be friendly, I guess, but actually hurt a lot) and danced out the door.

I crossed over and sat at the edge of Annabeth's bed. "You don't _really _have the plague, do you?"

Annabeth emerged slightly from the den of covers. Her eyes were bloodshot and her nose was bright red. Her blonde curls were reduced to a disheveled frizz. "No, Seaweed Brain. I'm just sick." She turned over, facing me now.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "You could've called to cancel. I hate to break it to you, but 'brainiac zombie' isn't really my type."

Note to self: Annabeth can still make your insides shrivel up with a glare when she's sick. "I didn't want to use my phone; there was a Cyclops sighting in TriBeCa yesterday. Brooke dropped her cell phone in the toilet. Besides, I thought giving her your phone number would be a cruel and unusual form of punishment."

I grinned. "She kind of reminds me of Rachel."

Annabeth nodded and propped herself up a bit. She was wearing an oversized Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and a pair of owl-print, fluffy pants. I found myself, smiling- that shirt looked an awful lot like one of mine.

She sneezed again, nudging me out of my thoughts. "I don't want you to get sick. I told her to tell you I couldn't come, not to bring you here. She's a decent roommate, but sometimes she gets... Difficult."

"You don't say," I laughed, "but are you okay?"

"Chiron says its the flu. Apparently godly meds don't work for RNA viruses, so I'm stuck like this. And midterms are coming up, too, so I'm missing valuable study time," she groaned, flipping over and burying her face in her pillow. "Go away."

"Annabeth, its my _job _to take care of you," I seat myself on the side of her bed.

"I could kick your butt anytime I want, Seaweed Brain. Even with the flu."

"Aw, c'mon. I brought soup," I offer hopefully.

Warily, Annabeth sits up all the way. "What kind?"

I hold up the package. "Ramen?"

She smacks it out of my hand and points to the door. "Go get me some real food, then we'll talk."

* * *

A half hour later, Annabeth and I are curled up together on her bed with cartons of Chinese takeout. She practically inhales a tub of sticky rice and half a carton of sweet and sour pork when she drops her chopsticks. "_Ooooh," _she moans, bolting off the bed and right out the door. I sit there, blinking.

When she comes back, she's pale and shaking. "Thanks for holding my hair while I puked and prayed to porcelain gods. Great boyfriend skills," she says sarcastically, flopping back into bed and pulling her blanket up to her chin.

"Percy Jackson, defender of Olympus, conquerer of the Titan Lord Kronos, and holder of the title 'weakest stomach'. It wouldn't have been pretty for either of us," I tell her, clearing away our brunch.

Annabeth grimaces. "You'd better hope you don't get sick too. I don't have enough tissues for the both of us."

She points to a box of Kleenex and I hand them to her. I speak over the foghorn, "how are things on Olympus? Are they still working without you?"

Annabeth sniffled. "I left some plans with Athena, but I really need to start working on those extra public restrooms. The last time Ares and Apollo got in a fight about the last stall, it set back construction by a week. I'm not sure we'll even be finished by the solstice, and Zeus was planning a big party."

She looked worried, and I patted her shoulder. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure you're doing fine."

Annabeth pursed her lips and blew her nose again, glancing over at her laptop. I knew she probably wanted to be drawing up plans and supervising Olympus' reconstruction, but right now, she didn't even look capable of holding a pencil steady.

Finally, she sighed. "Read me something."

I reached for one of the books lying scattered on the floor, but she shook her head.

"Pick something from there," Annabeth said, pointing to the tall bookshelf overflowing with paper and books, and was that a... football trophy?

Annabeth saw me looking at it and coughed. "I was kicker for the team in California. Pick something."

"I didn't know you were a football kind of person." I imagined Annabeth decked out in football gear, planning strategies and crushing the other team.

Her ears reddened. "Shut up and just _pick something._"

Even though she was sick, I didn't doubt her ability to leap out of bed and strangle me, so I grabbed a book, a small, green, leather-bound one. I turned it over, reading the cover. A piece of masking tape stretched across the front, labeled **KEEP OUT.**

"Not that, Seaweed Brain!" She scooted across the bed snatched the journal from my hands.

I grinned. "Dear diary," I mocked in a high voice, "I love Percy soooooo much. He's just so hot and sexy and amazing and-" Annabeth walloped me with the journal, giving me the death glare. I held up my hands in defeat.

Annabeth ran her fingers across the cover. "Gods, its been forever since I've opened this," she rasped, fingers hesitating over the cover. "It belongs to- it _used _to be Luke's."

"_Oh_. When did he give it to you?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"He didn't," Annabeth frowned. "When we were twelve, after Luke _left_, I kind of stole it from his cabin. I don't think he missed it much."

She looked sad, and exhausted. Not for the first time, I wondered how much Annabeth was still bothered by what happened on my birthday. I was pretty mixed up about it myself, but I tried not to think about those things.

Annabeth turned the journal over in her hands, "I was going to give it to Thalia for her birthday. I'll just have to wait until Camp's winter session."

I slipped the book out of her hands and slid it back into its spot on the bookshelf. "Sounds like a plan."

Annabeth half-smiled at me, beckoning me back to her side. She pulled the blanket over both of us, and she curled up close against me.

Now, Annabeth didn't have many moments of _cuteness_. Warrior beauty, yes. But straight up adorable? This was a first.

"Tell me the myth of Perseus," she suggested, tucking her head under my chin.

I opened my mouth to protest that I _couldn't _tell her the myth (but not because I didn't read that book of Greek myths she gave me. That would be ridiculous.) Instead, I stutter "Uhhh..."

She waits. I swallow thickly. And then I smile.

"Once upon a time-" I start, but Annabeth cuts me off.

"Myths don't start with _once upon a time._" She gropes around for a book from the floor, and reads me the beginning. I start again.

"Sing, O Muse, of the tale of Perseus," I intoned in a deep voice, and Annabeth nodded approvingly.

"Perseus was not the greatest of heroes. He wasn't very good at anything in particular, and he definitely wasn't the brightest demigod out there. In fact, he didn't even know he was a half-blood until he was twelve."

Annabeth caught on fast, smiling widely. I continued with gusto. "But one day, his math teacher turned into a demon, and everything changed. His teacher was a centaur and his best friend was half-goat. Even before he knew what was going on, he saw three old ladies cut a string on a very, very big pair of socks. Remember that," I added.

"Soon, Perseus was on the hunt for Zeus' favorite toy, the master bolt, with his satyr friend and another hero, the daughter of Athena, who should've hated him. Instead, they became good friends." Annabeth giggled, shaking her head at me.

"Perseus went on to sail the sea of monsters, defeat the Titan Atlas, and destroy the great Labyrinth. All with the help of his two best friends, and a few others like his Cyclops brother and his cousins, the son of Hades and the daughter of Zeus."

"But when he was sixteen, things started getting screwy. Typhon was going to attack Olympus, and Kronos was going to take the throne again. Once more, Perseus fought with his friends to save the gods. He didn't think they'd make it. But in the end, they won."

"Only sometimes, it doesn't feel like it," Annabeth murmured, jarring me out of my story.

I thought about that. Then I nodded. "Perseus' friend was right. To save Olympus, they'd sacrificed their enemy - who, as it turned out, wasn't really all that bad. Remember those giant socks? The thread had been their enemy's. This made the daughter of Athena sad. Perseus was sad, too, but he was also angry."

"So he struck a deal with the gods. Things were gonna start shaping up for the demigods; no half-blood would ever have to be as clueless as Perseus had been. No one would ever have to wonder who their mom or dad was."

"And to make this deal, Perseus had to give something else up," Annabeth said quietly, pulling away to look at me. "The gods of Olympus offered to make him one of them. But he said no. Some people think he didn't want to have the responsibility. Others don't believe he was given the offer in the first place. But the daughter of Athena knew better."

I leaned in and kissed her softly, forgoing precautions. Our noses bumped together, but Anabeth just laughed. I chuckled, too.

"And now, Perseus has retired from the big leagues. Or at least, he's trying to. He still has to fight the bad guys sometimes, but he tries to spend more time with his friends. Especially the daughter of Athena."

Annabeth shut her eyes and finished the story for me. "Now, Olympus is rebuilding itself, and the Oracle has issued a new prophecy. Things are looking up, and Perseus and the daughter of Athena aren't looking back."

* * *

Annabeth (on the phone): Hey Percy! I'm feeling loads better. We still on for tonight?"

Percy: ...

Annabeth: Hello? Percy?

Percy: no.

Annabeth: why not? What's wrong?

Percy: ...

Percy: ...

Percy: ...

Percy: *sneezes*

Annabeth: I'll bring the ramen.

* * *

_Happy Birthday, Percy! _

_Thanks for reading! This is the first time in FOREVER I've written a Percabeth story, so I apologize if it's a bit out of whack. Please take the time to favorite, subscribe, and comment!_


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